


beneath the blue

by crickets



Category: Lost
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-20 04:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crickets/pseuds/crickets





	beneath the blue

There _is_ an explosion.

Make no mistake in that.

Michael sees the face of a white-haired man telling him that he's free. _He can go_. But that isn't the voice he hears. What Michael hears, is a woman, screaming from up high. And then he thinks of his friend. _Jin didn't get away._

"I'm not finished yet," he tells the man instantly, some wave of understanding of the power that the apparition holds washing over him.

Michael's words are met with a shrug. "Suit yourself."

And that's when the bomb explodes.

-

It's the strangest feeling, floating in the sea beneath flaming debris that once was an ocean freighter, taking in lungfuls of water with no pressing need to break the surface and gasp for air, survival instincts completely disengaged.

Instead, Michael swims down, down, down, further into the blue. And finally he reaches for Jin's hand.

"You're not finished either," he says with his urgency rather than his voice. _Now_ , the survival instinct has kicked in, because _Jin_ , unlike himself, is unconscious, and it is a long, long way up.

-

The swim back to the island seems endless, and it appears for a moment to Michael that the island itself has disappeared, or perhaps he has lost his direction. There's a momentary fleeting panic, but soon the swells grow smaller and he can see green again. "Home," he gasps. And he can't help but be reminded of Sawyer, and a moment not unlike this one.

He pulls Jin along, his body draped over a piece of floating debris, breath shallow. "Hang on," Michael tells him. "We're almost there."

-

There's an intense realization when they find their way back to camp that everyone else is gone. It feels different. It _sounds_ different.

The question of _where_ hangs in the air, and it never occurs to either of them to ask, _when_?

-

Jin teaches Michael Korean and expands on the little English he knows already.

Michael teaches Jin how to build things.

Their technique is a bit off, not having the types of tools or materials they would back on the mainland, but they fashion sturdy shelters further back from the beach, a water filtration system, even a shower. The things they build are far nicer than those at the beach had been able to previously construct. Perhaps if Michael's time here hadn't been mostly spent building a raft that would eventually take them to absolutely nowhere -- or to hell, rather -- he could have helped to make them all a little more comfortable, could have stopped a lot of bad things from happening.

He remembers two faces, splattered in blood, killed by his own hands, a wage to pay for a son he'd never really known, fear and panic overtaking him. He will never erase their faces from his mind. It is a stone of guilt that will weigh him down until the day he takes his last breath.

Jin can sense this, some days, places a hand over Michael shoulder, and his other hand over his own heart.

"Don't worry, friend," Jin tells him in Korean, presses lips to Michael's forehead. "You are forgiven."

-

They have a notion that they're not entirely alone, which isn't any more of a surprise to them than anything else really.

Jin tells Michael he thinks he saw Richard through the trees one night, late. But when he got to the clearing, there was no one there, and not a noise to be heard. Michael grips Jin's bicep, tells him never to follow them again. "Went through a lot of trouble to bring you back here," he says. But what he really means is, _I can't lose you_.

-

"It's time you learned what I used to do for a living," Jin tells Michael, not long after that.

They train with sticks, fashion weapons, fight hand to hand, sweating and grunting and tiring themselves out. They keep their hair mostly short and they run miles along the beach. This is what Jin can give him. It's security. It's feeling capable and safe.

Michael knows they'll probably never have to use any of it. It's just a way to keep fit, keep the blood rushing to their heads. But he can't deny he loves it, the adrenaline, the heat of it, the power in it.

-

They sleep in separate structures, and have even decorated them a bit to make these temporary dwellings feel more like home.

During they day they enjoy each other's companionship, they spar or they hunt, they cook and they share stories. And they wait for whatever comes next.

At night, Michael imagines Jin's mouth over his, imagines pushing his hips into Jin's, imagines what it would be like to wake up in his arms. He never thinks, however, that Jin might be imagining the same thing.

-

They cook meat over a fire, fish this time, one of Jin's other talents. They talk, eat, laugh. It is a ritual in a place where things like rituals do not matter. But it is more important to them now than they would have ever guessed upon first meeting.

Michael sits next to Jin in the sand, tells him of a game people play back in the states, questions intended to reveal some truth of personality, asking each other which possessions, which people, they'd want with them if ever deserted on an island.

Jin laughs, says they have a similar game back in Korea, tells him he was never much for them.

"Me either," Michael says.

Jin is quiet for a few moments, pulls his knees to his chest. Then quietly, "You," he says. "If I were stranded on a deserted island I'd want _you_ with me," he tells Michael.

Michael's eyes meets Jin's.

The next moment is a flurry of motion, Michael reaching for Jin's face, lips connecting, bodies pressing together for the first time in years, clothes being torn off. It's a fast and frenzied coupling, wet fingers sliding over sensitive skin, Jin allowing Michael to press into him, names being called, teeth biting down on flesh just a little too hard, Michael coming all too fast, having to take Jin in his hand to offer him release. There isn't much time to think, or to appreciate one another. It is a lost moment in time in a place that doesn't exist. There will be niceties in the morning, slow explorations, kisses that don't leave bruises, rough hands smoothing over each other's faces and lips, quiet lovemaking. For now it is all noise and pent-up tension and release. For now it is instant gratification.

-

The next afternoon, Michael hikes alone up the beach to check the fishing nets. He can still feel the results of the previous night and early morning. There's a bruise on his side that aches and he thinks maybe he remembers Jin's knee slamming into him there once. He can't be sure. He'll have to remember to be more careful next time. _Next time_.

There's little haul to take back to camp and Michael makes note of it. They'll have to go into the jungle to hunt, if not today, then tomorrow at least. He rigs the net back in its place and packs up his things. There's a glint on the horizon and for absolutely no reason at all, he shields his eyes, looks out across the water. There, on the surface, is a small canoe, and inside, there's a man he's sure he's never seen and a woman he almost doesn't recognize at first. But then his eyes grow wide.

 _"Sun_."

It takes him a few minutes to reach the shelters.

"Jin!" He calls, frantically, out of breath.

Jin emerges from the jungle, rushes to Michael's side. "What? What?"

Michael grabs the back of Jin's neck, presses his lips against the other man's, knows it will probably be the last time. Then, he pants, "She's here."

 _-fin_


End file.
